"Yes," I answered; and the stars and the sea seemed to sing with my thoughts. I felt uplifted, somehow. It was a wonderful sensation, which it would be impossible to describe. But I had an exciting impression that Jim Brett shared it. The music of the Hungarian band flowed out from the house, and beat in my blood. His voice sounded as if it beat in his, too. "You can't dream what my ambitions are, or maybe you wouldn't say that." "I'm sure they would only be noble ones." "It's true; they are noble. Yet you might not approve. But they're part of my life. I couldn't give them up now, and live." "I should like to hear about them," I said, almost more to myself than to him. "Some day, if we meet again--and I mean we shall, since you have called me friend--perhaps you will let me tell you about them. I shall ask you to listen. But not now. I daren't now. The time hasn't come. Only promise me this, Lady Betty; that you won't forget me; that you'll think of me kindly, sometimes." "I do think of you very often," I said, "and talk about you to Vivace. Poor little Vivace. _He_ doesn't forget. How he did whimper when I had to drag him away from you that day in the wistaria arbour at Central Park. _This_ isn't unlike that arbour, is it? There's wistaria here too. I believe I shall always think of that day when I see wistaria. It is odd we should meet again next time in a place so much the same--and just as unexpectedly." "Just as unexpectedly," echoed Mr. Brett, in an odd, thoughtful tone. "It's wonderful that we should meet at all--considering everything." Then he laughed, rather bitterly, I thought. "Aren't you afraid of me, Lady Betty, after your experience of journalists--since I've half hinted to you I may be acting in that capacity to-night?" "Afraid of you?" I repeated, laughing. "As if I could be. I would trust you in everything." As I said that, a lot of people came out of the Maze in the marquee, by the exit Mr. Brett had found for me. They streamed into the dimly lighted pergola, in their fantastic costumes, laughing and talking, and the beautiful peace of the blue night--broken only by the throb of distant music--was gone completely. I had thought of taking off my mask, but I was glad now that I'd kept it on. They came towards us, all in great spirits, having a game of "Follow my Leader," and their leader, a Chinese Mandarin, was offering to guide them to the Cave of Aladdin. I was glad that the Flame Spirit wasn't in the gay procession. Evidently he had missed me, and gone some other way; or else he was too angry to wish to find me again. The crowd stopped to speak to us, making jokes in disguised voices. Some of the things they said made me feel that it would be uncomfortable to linger behind with the Puritan, when they had passed on. "Let's join them, shall we?" I asked. "They're going to Aladdin's Cave. Wouldn't you like to see it?" "Yes," he said. And we followed the wild party, at a discreet distance.